


My Toxic Romance

by ElizaMatt



Category: The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: Adultery, Anal Sex, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaMatt/pseuds/ElizaMatt
Summary: Quentin and Margot is a couple. They stay a few days with Margot's family where her brother Eliot is a guest.





	My Toxic Romance

They were driving home for a brief visit, and Margot’s mother was ecstatic. His siblings all lived near their parents, so the dinner table would be full, but they were all very happy to see them. When her father came in, he stood in amazement,

“Well, isn’t it the prodigal daughter?” he laughed out. “Good to see you, Margot. Come here.” He pounced on Quentin’s shoulder and then pulled Margot into a sweet hug, and Margot squeezed him back, beaming. Their mother laughed as she set out an extra plate, and Margot’s father said,

“How long can you stay?”

“Just overnight if you have room?” Margot said happily. “We’re on our way home from vacation. Just a few days in Hawaii.”

“ _If_ we got room,” his mother scoffed. “Your room is always here, Marge. You know that.” She looked at Quentin with a maternal gaze, “Both of you!”

Margot said,

“We had tickets straight from LA to New York, but the weather made us go down in, what Armpit Poughkeepsie? …” She waved her hand dismissively. Margot's mother shook her head, but her father laughed.

“Thought we’d rent a car and drive over for a visit. See the family.” Quentin smiled at Margot.

“It was Q’s idea, really,” Margot said and smiled her ironic smile at his lover. “I couldn’t care to see you, but he insisted. Something about the apple pie he tasted last summer? Could drive to the ends of the earth for that.”

Margot’s mom’s eyes shone when she looked at Quentin,

“As it happens, I have pies in the oven just know. We’ll have some tonight, and I’ll sneak some in your luggage before you leave!”

Margot said,

“I'll pass. I want to have a waistline when we leave.” She looked around. “Wasn't Eliot staying?”

Her father sighed deeply but her mother said,

“Eliot will come later. When he says here, he spends a lot of time in nature, forgetting the time.”

“Poets!” Margot's father spat out, but the mother said,

“You'll see him at breakfast, dear. I know he'll be happy to see you.”

It was night. Margot lay snoring on top of the covers. Sweet things always knocked her out. Quentin quietly pulled on jeans and a shirt and then went downstairs. He didn’t turn on any lights but felt his way down the long corridors to the library. He didn’t knock, just opened the door and slipped inside.

Eliot was there as he knew he would be, lounging in a deep leather chair, reading a book. Quentin stood still and took him in; the lanky frame where the clothes hid his strong body. The exquisite clothes from the silk west to the snug grey trousers. He looked up, met his eyes, then calmly put a bookmark in the book to find his place.

“Finally,” he said and rose. Quentin shrugged,

“Margot was a little restless. How are you?”

“Thirsty,” Eliot said, walking past him to the bar. “You still prefer beer?”

Quentin shrugged, but then said,

“No, wine. White wine. Let’s be grownups.”

Eliot looked up, his eyes sparkled slightly,

“Should we settle for champagne?” He held up a bottle and Quentin smiled, relieved to see him playful again.

“Oh yes…”

  
They drank a glass each and settled on the couch, next to each other. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable. It grew, pregnant with promises and unspoken needs.

“So how you been?” Quentin finally said.

“Fine.” Eliot said. “Mostly drunk, of course, everything seems better through a haze of alcohol.”

“I wish you wouldn’t drink that much,” Quentin said.

“I wish you weren’t my sister’s life partner.”

Quentin looked over at him,

“Kiss me.”

Eliot grabbed his neck and pulled him in. Without any more hesitation their mouths met, warm and wet, opening eagerly. Eliot filled his mouth with his tongue, moved his body forward, pinning Q under him. Quentin’s legs opened, feeling Eliot lay down hard between them. He didn’t move but felt him throb against him. He closed his eyes and heard Eliot say,

“Look at me, Quentin.”

He opened his eyes and knew he would give in. Eliot said,

“One time. We’ll do it one more time and never again.”

Quentin just said,

“Please fuck me.”

Eliot turned him around, on his stomach, his face deep in a cushion, then Quentin felt his tongue between his buttocks. He spread his legs and moaned, tried to crawl away but felt Eliot stop him from moving.

“Take me,” Quentin panted. “Raw. I need to feel you in me now.” He raised his butt higher as Eliot’s tongue was tasting him, worshiping him. He cried out and then Eliot’s fingers entered him, slathered in oil. Quentin moaned and groaned out,

"Yes, yes!"

Eliot forced his wrists into the mattress, then he pressed himself inside without warning, and Q gasped out in the vast dark library,

“Yes, there! Harder!”

Eliot started fucking him, roughly, hammering him down into the couch, and Quentin, gasped out,

“Yes, Eliot, yes!”

Eliot let go of his wrists and rose up, using his hands firmly on the bed to give his ramming more force. Quentin groaned and cried out, coming embarrassing early in a tidewater of creamy liquid on the couch.

“You’re gorgeous, Q,” Eliot whispered into his skin. “I love being inside you!”

“Oh god!” Q gasped back. “I...!” then he screamed when Eliot pulled out and turned him on his stomach,

“Spread your legs!” he demanded, and Quentin obeyed with a gasp, crying out when he was filled. Eliot pulled him up on his knees and started taking him again,

“Oh no, no, oh god, yes, yes, yes,“ Quentin cried out, suddenly realizing his body was growing hard again, impossibly quickly. Eliot grabbed around his hardening cock and said, easily,

“You want me?”

Quentin moaned out, arching his back,

“Yes, yes, oh Eliot, Eliot!” He pushed back his buttocks like he was in heat, craving more. He writhed and cried out as the fucking started again. Quentin’s mouth was open, helpless as Eliot held him, his cock lodged inside him, taking him fast. Q spread his legs even more, and his whimpering made Eliot whisper,

“You're mine.” He slowed down, steel crept into his voice, “ _Not_ Margot's.”

“No, no,” Quentin gasped out, his voice rising. “Not Margot's.”

The fucking was now slow and deep, every thrust sending electricity through them both. Eliot caressed his skin, let his mouth worship it, his tongue wet it.

“Didn’t know…” Quentin gasped out. “Could feel like this,” he moaned, had no more strength. He felt Eliot shudder at his words, felt his movements deepen.

“I’m coming…” Quentin then whispered, exhausted, achingly hard, and Eliot answered him instantly,

“Come…” jerking his hips forward. Quentin came, shuddering, his muscles in spasms as he shot wetly, again and again. Eliot fell on him, roaring into his neck as the spasms took him in an all-consuming orgasm.


End file.
